


Strings and Threads

by Katie_P



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol, Canon Temporary Character Death, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Character Death, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 19:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16435292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katie_P/pseuds/Katie_P
Summary: Howard Stark is finally getting his company off the ground after the war.  But to get the money he needs from his new investors, he'll have to make a painful compromise.





	Strings and Threads

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote something! It's not either of the WIPs that have sat neglected for months. But I wrote something! This is part of my Earth Zero Universe. Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Howard Stark may be a kind of terrible person, but he sure is fun to write.  
> Yes, I know there is a musical arrangement called the [“Strings and Threads Suite.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QAiwegf4LlM) This fic has nothing to do with it. Though it is quite lovely if you want to give it a listen.

Howard sat alone in a booth in the back corner of the bar. He'd ordered the cheapest rotgut they had, and the barman delivered. He stubbed out the end of his cigarette into the overflowing ashtray, sending ashes and a few embers skittering across the worn, dark wood table. He tapped another cigarette out of his dwindling pack and lit it, smoke curling around his head. He blinked to clear it from his eyes. The whiskey burned his throat as he swallowed. 

He looked down at the book in his hand. The outside was unremarkable. Cheap, bonded blue leather over paperboard, scuffed and stained with mud and grass and dried blood. Contained within its pages was the future. A future its author would never see. 

Howard tipped his head back and emptied his glass. He brought the glass down with a dull thunk. The sound of splashing liquid drew his attention to the barmaid, who was refilling his glass from the bottle on the table. Howard slid another quarter across the slightly grimy surface. The barmaid pocketed the coin and continued on her rounds. 

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Earlier that day he'd met with his new investors. His consulting operation was outgrowing his tiny office and three-man staff. He needed to set up a proper company. And that would take a lot more money than what his Army contracts were bringing in. 

That money came with strings attached. Howard had expected nothing less, and had accepted the terms graciously, swallowing down the pain until he could numb it in private. Signing over partial ownership of the nascent company, he could handle. Answering to a board of directors was not much different than his current relationship with the higher ups in the Army. Plus, having a board of directors with experience and connections would be an invaluable asset in the coming months and years as the company formed and grew. Being presented with a business manager was what had sent Howard to the bar at two o'clock in the afternoon.

His investors were right that he needed one. Howard was an engineer, not a businessman. Besides, his consulting workload left little time for the administrative duties necessary to keep him in business. He'd already been looking for the right candidate for several months. Having the nephew of one of his investors presented to him as his new business manager was what rankled him. 

Howard knew what he was looking for – who he was trying to replace, if he was being honest with himself – and Obadiah Stane was not it. He'd met Obadiah only briefly, and while he was impressed by the kid's intelligence and eagerness, that was also the problem. He was a kid, just graduated from Harvard. Top of his class, but still painfully young. Too young to have gone to Europe or the Pacific. Unmarked by war. Being placed at the helm of a company whose business was war. Not elevated on his own merits, though he surely had many, but by the hand of his wealthy, powerful uncle. 

He knew what his father would tell him after handing him an unsold apple shined on a threadbare coat. _You cannot blame a man for the accident of his birth. You can only judge a man on what he chooses to do with the life he has been given._ Not for the first time did Howard wonder what his father would think of his own choices.

Howard knocked back the remains of his half-empty glass in one gulp. The burn in his throat and the smoke-filled air took him back to another bar on another continent.

He'd peeled off from the others as their drunken exuberance grew too raucous for his nerves. Soon enough, a wraithlike companion joined him.

“Jones needs a smaller radio.”

James always got right to the point. 

He pulled a battered notebook from his jacket pocket. Between pages of trajectory calculations were mechanical sketches and circuit diagrams. 

Howard listened intently as James went through the pros and cons of using point-contact diodes in place of tube diodes to reduce both the size and the weight of the radio.

“May I borrow that?” Howard asked, pointing at the notebook. “I'll return it before you go.”

James slid the notebook over to Howard. “We'll be traveling light and moving fast. Hold onto it until we get back with Zola.”

Howard nodded. He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it and stuck a cigarette between his lips instead. There would be plenty of time to fill James in on his plans for after the war, and invite him to join.

Howard's vision swam, and he wiped furiously at his eyes. There was nothing he could do for James now, save for making sure his brilliance didn't die with him. And, he supposed, he should find an excuse to visit Brooklyn to check on Alice and the kids again. Maybe pay for their college tuition when the time came. 

He flipped to the last entry in the notebook and chuckled despite himself. At the time, he'd ridiculed the idea as a pipe dream. It certainly wasn't something he could throw together in a few days and have ready for a high-stakes mission, even with his full wartime staff and James assisting. But it had potential. Potential that could only be realized with a lot of time, money, and manpower.

Howard closed the notebook and tucked it into the inner pocket of his jacket. He could not afford to waste the opportunity in front of him right now. He reached into his wallet and slid a few bills under the empty whiskey bottle. He stubbed out his last cigarette and lurched to his feet. He pulled on his overcoat and hat. 

Each step grew steadier as he marched out of the bar and headed back to his office with new resolve. 

Stark & Associates would have a business manager.

They'd rename the firm Stark & Company.

They would hire more employees. Move to a bigger office. Set up a factory.

It wasn't what Howard had initially envisioned, but that was the price of progress.

He'd learn to live with it, like he had learned to live with so many other necessary yet unpleasant things.

And maybe, one day, he'd even learn to like Obadiah Stane.

**Author's Note:**

> My Earth Zero Universe aims to be more realistic than the MCU, and realism dictates that Stark Industries could not have existed before or during WWII. I expound on that topic at length [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16435172/chapters/38483153).  
> In my Earth Zero Universe, Bucky was married and had a family before the war. This is important for a number of plot reasons that I have planned for other fics.  
> Howard is one of very few people who calls Bucky by his given name James.


End file.
